Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.

―Matthew 5:5

For the next five days, my life resumed some semblance of how it was before my exit from the castle. I would awake early every morning and work late into the night. My time was taken up entirely by two simple tasks. The first was fulfilling my promise to Gilda, where I would work to produce some form of pamphlet that would speak to the griffons and their plight. Whilst my writing talent was mediocre at best, I had unlimited sources to pull from. Robespierre, Lenin, Marx, and Martin Luther King Junior, I had read and retained enough from each that I was able to begin to amalgamate them into something powerful. It was a reasonably simple job really, though I struggled at first, once the words started flowing, adapting human ideals on racial equality into species equality became easy enough. Soon enough, Gilda’s room was covered in pages and pages of notes and drafts, and my right arm was covered in black ink stains that never fully came out, no matter how hard I scrubbed.

My other project was for my own good, and it consumed me a little more each day. At first it had taken form as an idea one night when I was having trouble sleeping, but since then it became an outlet for my frustrations. It was a plan to adapt the dagger that had freed me into something that I could use comfortably without the risk of dropping it. This task involved two things: creating a handle that a pony could comfortably grasp and finding a way to strap the sheath to my body. I don’t know why I insisted on using that blade, perhaps it was out of love for the symbolism if I ever got to use it. Gradually, the weapon began to take shape and consequently what remained of my money dwindled to nothing. However, it was worth every bit, and I do not regret it for a second.

During that time I was little better than an invalid, only able to leave the bed a few times each day to relieve or clean myself. Furthermore, the pain I experienced was just as excruciating as promised. My wounds seemed to throb non-stop, constantly breaking my concentration and pushing my self-control to the limit. The vial that Golden Poppy gave me still sat on the nightstand in the exact same spot as she left it, taunting me to take it and soothe my pain. However I refused to give into the temptation, I knew the dangers of addiction to Opium, and I was not going to shackle myself again just after I had been freed. Besides, I needed my mind sharp and clear.

As the days passed and the pain diminished, my restlessness and desire to ignore the doctor’s orders only grew.

Gilda herself was little help in these times. She was gone for most of the day, taking short hunting trips in an attempt to replenish some of her stock. Though I felt tremendously guilty about making her do all the extra work, she never let me apologise. Whenever I tried to bring it up, she always silenced me before I could really do any talking, saying that I was doing her a favour since she loved it so much. Strangely, though I did not doubt that it would be easier for her to simply camp in the forest overnight, she never brought anything up about doing so and was always back home in time for us to have dinner together.

Golden Poppy had taken to checking in on me around midday every single day, always bringing with her some leftovers or a fresh sandwich for me. Though I had protested initially—food prices were hardly cheap from what I had read in the paper—she always insisted and eventually I stopped bringing it up. Being the kind woman that she was, she was even willing to go and purchase a few of the parts that I needed for my personal project, though I always made sure to never let on what I was creating.

Everything actually seemed to be progressing at a steady and comfortable pace, until the day Gilda burst in with the afternoon edition of the Equestria Daily.

“You might want to read this,” Gilda said, tossing the newspaper onto my lap, causing me to almost stab myself with the dagger clasped in my right foreleg.

Suppressing an annoyed sigh, I carefully returned the blade to its sheath strapped to my left foreleg, paying close attention to any difficulty in doing so in the process.

Though the weapon was relatively simple, it nevertheless meant a great deal to me. The dagger itself was well constructed, being nearly identical to its original iteration. I had received no complaints from Gilda when I had told her my idea, truthfully I think that she was more disturbed by the knife than she let on and was glad to be rid of it. However, my alterations were designed to be functional and cheap. The grip had been lengthened and the pommel had been replaced completely, both tasks having been done by a blacksmith’s unicorn apprentice for a relatively low price on account of its ease of creation and the fact that I had allowed him to recreate my design for future clients. Furthermore, a simple guard of curved steel had been added, running from one of the crossguards to the modified hilt. This itself had taken most of the time to get right, since I had made sure that it was just tight enough to prevent my hoof from slipping through but loose enough to allow it to be removed with little effort.

The actual means of holding sheath to my arm was relatively simple, consisting of two adjustable straps that went through two separate inbuilt loops at either end of the blade that were then buckled to my arm. Luckily, these were easy to obtain, having been purchased by Gilda using my money from one of her contacts, meaning that they were genuine deerskin leather rather than some imitation product. They also seemed to have been good quality, fixing the flat of the blade tightly against my coat, with barely any movement no matter how hard I shook it. This fact also extended to the knife itself, which always stayed firmly in its sheath unless I deliberately pulled it out by the hilt.

After unbuckling the straps with some difficulty and gently placing the blade down on the nightstand, I picked up the newspaper. My eyes immediately gravitated towards the picture of a slightly strained looking Celestia flanked by two guards addressing a crowd of ponies from a balcony and the article it related to.

Food Crisis Bill Rejected by Noble Council

In a move that stunned the entirety of Equestria today, the Council of Nobles has rejected the Equestrian Emergency Food Shortage Relief Act. “I give my solemn word that my sister and I are doing all in our power to convince the council of the importance of these laws,” Celestia said. However, several council members have gone on record as saying that no compromise is possible for the current laws. Prince Blueblood, the council’s speaker, when asked about the reasoning behind the rejection said that it was to do with privilege, that it is the nobility’s right to claim a certain amount of every other pony’s earnings and that Celestia’s plans threatened that very concept. In the mean time, the two sisters have sprung into action, suspending all non-critical money expenditure of the crown, ranging from formal events to food purchase. Furthermore, a more barebones version of the plan of action is to be implemented, providing a rebate for lower class families to help with heightened food prices. Unfortunately, due to the much lower funds at the crown’s disposal, coupled with the inefficiency of taking money only to give back a smaller amount at a later time, does not bode well for this scheme.

Once I finished reading the article, I immediately did so again to ensure that I understood everything correctly. As I did, the gears in my head began to turn as the information sunk in, a realisation and plan forming all at once.

“Gilda!” I suddenly called out in excitement, causing the griffoness to jump slightly in surprise. “Do you know what this means? With this much animosity against the government right now we might be able to stage a full revolution.”

The blank stare that she gave me stumped me for a moment, until I caught onto what it was that was causing confusion. “We could totally remove Celestia and Luna from power and establish a new government in its place,” I offered by way of an explanation.

"We?" Gilda responded flatly, her arms crossed and eyebrow raised.

"Listen,” I pleaded with her. “Every revolution needs a starting point, and this could be ours. Right now, the public's opinion of the government is unquestionably low. Everyone that's not an aristocrat, whether it be griffon or pony, will be affected by this." I continued, practically slamming the paper on to the bed.

"Your point?" she retorted, sounding far less enthusiastic than I had expected.

"My point is that we can use this to unite them against the council, and then maybe even the royal sisters.”

"There you go with that ‘We’ again." Gilda said, making her way to stand next to the bed. "Look. I was willing to let you have your little dreams while you were still sick, but what you’re talking about here is serious stuff. I’ve worked hard for what I’ve got, and I’m not gonna risk it any more than I already have.”

“You don’t believe we could do it, do you?” I asked, my head falling to look into my lap. I was dejected but not necessarily surprised, I couldn’t really hope to push Gilda much further on blind trust.

“No, I don’t,” she replied, giving a firm shake of her head. “Nothing like that has even been done before.”

“Humans have done it,” I said, lifting my eyes up to meet her, sensing an opportunity. “We’ve killed more than one king,” At my words I saw Gilda’s eyes light up in interest. “Many had their heads cut off, in front of a crowd no less, and do you know what happened?” I received only a muted shake of the head as a response. “Everyone cheered.”

“Gilda, just imagine what we could do together. With this,” I held up the newspaper, shaking it for emphasis, “we can make the ponies hate Celestia, make them abandon her in her hour of need, and have them cheer when she falls.” I had her then, the way that she leaned forward was indication enough. “And don’t forget the griffons. You would be equals, free to follow your nature and eat meat as intended. All of it is in our grasp, but I lack the in-depth knowledge of Equestria to accomplish anything of merit. However, with you on side, then the sky's the limit. It’s all up to you.”

“No,” she said with a vigorous shaking of her head, not even pausing for a second after I finished talking. “No way. I’m not going to risk going to jail over some ridiculous human ideas.”

“I understand Gilda,” I replied, struggling to recover from surprise over her immediate refusal. I was certain that I had had her. “I have nothing to back me up, but what would you say if I said I could prove myself.”

“I’d say that you don’t know when to cut your losses.” She replied in a tense tone, her eyes narrowing. “I’ve already said no and that’s final.”

“I only want a chance to show you what I can do,” I said, forcing myself to talk evenly, hiding my growing anger over her stubbornness. “I have a proposal.” 

As soon as the words exited my mouth the griffoness made to interrupt me, though I held up my forehooves and quickened my voice in response. “Now just hear me out! Tomorrow morning you take me to a public place full of griffons and I give a speech. If I succeed in impressing you, then you take my offer and we begin to plan out our revolution on the very same day. If I fail, then I will be at your command. If you want me to stop my plans for griffon equality, I’ll stop. If you want me to get a job to work off my debt, I’ll do it.”

As I finished Gilda regarded me with suspicious eyes. “And what if I refuse to go along with this whole stupid plan?” she asked warily.

“Then I continue on with what I am doing now: writing my pamphlets and working to remove the societal restriction on griffons. Unfortunately, I can only see this going one way. I’ll eventually get better, but without any income I’ll have to stay here. One day you’ll get sick of me and we’ll be forced to part on less than cordial terms,” I paused for a moment, before adding earnestly, “which is something that I don’t want to happen.”

By the look of the throbbing blood vessel that was visible even under her feathers, Gilda wasn’t too pleased with either prospect. A tense silence filled the room as I waited for her reply with baited breath. 

Perhaps it was a touch manipulative of me to do what I did, but what I had planned was for the greater good.

“Fine,” she eventually spat out, extending her claw for me to shake. “We’ve got a deal.”

Eagerly, I extended my blue furred appendage to clasp hers as best as I could. As her claw enveloped my own—the exact same way as we had done when we first met—she suddenly gripped it tightly, and wrenched me forward so that my face was almost touching hers, muzzle to beak.

“But just to be clear,” she said in a low tone, “this is the last time I do anything like this for you. After tomorrow, you’ll give up these ridiculous plans of yours and let me get on with my life.”

“Trust me Gilda,” I replied in a solemn tone, my left foreleg positioning itself over my heart. “I am a man of my word. If tomorrow you judge me to fail, then that is exactly what I will do.”

For a moment, the griffoness regarded me with a piercing gaze like she was staring into my soul, making me shiver. Eventually she nodded, releasing my hoof and backing off. “Good, I’ll hold you to it.”

“Alright then,” I said with a smile and renewed enthusiasm, ideas bubbling away in my mind. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a speech to write.”

*****

As we walked side by side, the usual stares were cast our way. However, this time I was not so sure that it was our conflicting species that drew attention. I myself must have cut an unusual sight, an earth pony who had white bandages wound around his hips walking with a slight limp, with a dagger, hilt facing downwards and guard pointing away from him, strapped to his left foreleg. Really, I was amazed I didn’t get more than a few strange looks.

“So,” I began, attempting to strike up a conversation with Gilda to distract me from the butterflies in my stomach. “I’ve been putting some more thought into the pseudonym I would publish my writing under.”

Glancing at me sideways, the griffoness shot me an unimpressed look. “Ugh,” she groaned. “It’s not going to be another stupid one like True Voice is it?”

“Hey,” I said, adopting a tone of mock offendedness and a subtle smirk, “that was a perfectly good name, it’s hardly my fault that you dismissed it.”

“It was a name fit for a dweeb,” Gilda shot back, including some of that strange slang that I had only just gotten used to. “It was like you were trying so hard to make it sound cool, that you made it lame instead.”

I gave a soft sigh of annoyance, doing my best to pinch the bridge of my nose whilst not falling over, an action that I performed successfully, albeit shakily, even though we were still moving.

“Well do you have any suggestions then?” I questioned, trying my best to not let my exasperation fill my voice. I wasn’t very successful.

“Why don’t you just use that lame name that Celestia gave you,” she replied, the tone of her voice betraying how fed up she was in the matter. “It might freak her out when she hears what you’re doing.” She paused for a second before quickly adding, “If you can even do it.”

“I can do it.” I replied, slightly angry, if not understandable, of Gilda’s scepticism. “Besides, I refuse to use that fool’s name as my own.”

My response prompted Gilda to quirk an eyebrow at me. “You talk like you’re not even the same person.”

At the griffonesses’ words, my pace gradually slowed to a stop. Not yet noticing what I was doing, Gilda quickly overtook me, before she turned her head backwards, recognised what had happened and backtracked to my position.

“We’re not the same person,” I spoke, my voice quiet partially due to our unintended audience and partially due to my own resolve. “Clickity Clack was nothing but Celestia’s puppet, content with his allotment in life, crafted by her with the express purpose of making her more comfortable with her failures.”

“Uh... alright then,” the griffoness said rubbing the back of her neck, obviously uncomfortable with our conversation. “Well then why don’t you pick a name to do with fire, like in that dream you told me about.”

At Gilda’s words, a brief flash of those grinning skulls appeared in my mind’s eye and I felt a growing sense of unease at their very mention. Trying to shake off the feeling, I began walking again, Gilda quickly joining me.

“Perhaps,” I admitted, doing my best to maintain my neutral body language. “The more I think about that dream, the more I think I understand what it symbolised. All those ponies burning alive for the sake of gifts, it’s an analogy for cutie marks. Their reliance on their ‘destiny’ destroys everything else that could have ever been for them.”

“Maybe,” Gilda said with a shrug. “Did you consider the possibility that it was only a dream, with no hidden meaning involved at all?”

“At the very least, completely removing meaning,” I replied, “you and it saved my life.”

At my words the griffoness gave a sigh, suddenly looking tired. “Look can you stop going on about me saving your life? I’m not some hero. Your blood’s on my mind enough without you bringing it up every five seconds.”

As soon as the words slipped from her mouth a look of horror filled her features as she clasped a claw over her beak, as if she could somehow prevents words that had already been said from slipping out.

At her reaction, a realisation struck me that left me feeling awful for being so blind. “Gilda,” I began softly, doing my best to be gentle with her in order to not provoke her temper, as experience had taught. “Do you feel guilty for the pain you caused me?”

I didn’t seem to garner any reaction from my companion. Her eyes remained fixed straight ahead, as she guided us to our destination and no words came readily in reply.

“If you do, don’t,” I said, moving closer to her so that there were only a few inches of space between us. “Everything that you did was at my own request.”

Before I could continue Gilda spoke. “Look can we just drop it? It’s stupid.”

Though I opened my mouth to argue, I quickly thought better of it. “Sure. But, I’m here if you want to talk about it, whenever you’re ready.”

Gilda remained silent for a while, merely walking beside me with her eyes cast off to the side. She seemed to be struggling to find the right thing to say.

“Thanks,” she eventually said, allowing her posture to relax, as she flashed me a grateful smile.

Suddenly, her expression hardened. “Don’t think that this gets you off the hook,” she spoke, her usual arrogance back in place, “this little speech of yours needs to be pretty impressive, if you want to convince me this dumb revolution can work.”

“Now that’s the Gilda I know,” I teased, bumping my shoulder into her side. “And don’t worry, I’ll get on to convincing you as soon as possible.”

After that, we lapsed back into silence, though neither one of us made a move to once again distance ourselves from each other.

“Well, here we are,” Gilda suddenly spoke, giving a small flourish that encapsulated the square that opened up before us.

Most of the area was taken up by market stalls, each one containing a variety of different wares, from toys to food. The stalls themselves came in various degrees of shabbiness. Most seemed to be home made, hammered together with planks of woods with the wares for sale painted on a sign. Even then, no two were the same with different colours, sizes, and general designs scattered everywhere. I couldn’t even attempt to guess how many griffons were there, all I knew was that they were densely packed into the narrow lanes that the stores created. Despite what appeared to be a reasonable level of prosperity present, most of the griffons still did not look to be in good health, with the now typical look of underdeveloped muscles and exposed ribs.

“I wouldn’t have expected there to be such a turnout, when food’s so expensive right now,” I observed half to myself, my eyes still wandering around, every few seconds noticing something new and interesting.

At my words Gilda gave a short snort. “Just look at most of us,” she said, “we’ve been having a food shortage far longer than the ponies. Besides, one advantage to meat is that it wasn’t ruined after Discords return, so the price is still the same as before, though it was always pretty expensive to begin with.”

“Is that why those cages are over there?” I questioned, indicating a vendor who had various different dirt-covered animals on display, all of them looking forlorn and helpless.

“Good eye,” Gilda complimented, bumping her shoulder into mine, though she put a enough strength into it that I stumbled slightly. “Those are sold as pets, though most griffon pets seem to have an unfortunately short life span, if you catch my drift.” She chuckled slightly at her own joke.

“How are you even able to do that?” I asked, “Surely the guard would have caught on to what they’re doing.”

“That's the beauty of it,” she replied with a wide grin. “The one good thing about that bitch Celestia is that she makes sure that griffons are allowed to enter all professions, same as ponies. So, it’s perfectly fine for us to sell them out in the open. Of course, they eventually get found out and punished, but by then they’ve made enough money that they don’t care.”

Briefly, I pondered her explanation, my gaze casually drifting around the area until I noticed something of interest off in the distance.

“Well that fountain looks as good a place as any to deliver my speech,” I said, indicating the water feature in question. It was actually incredibly simple, being nothing more than a few increasingly larger basins with a slightly raised top which the water flowed gently from.

Sitting down on my haunches, I felt the borrowed bags begin to slide down my back. As the nearly empty bags slid over my wounds, I winced in pain, the flesh there was still incredibly tender.

Flipping open the simple clasp, I retrieved my painstakingly polished speech with shaking hooves. Looking over at my destination, I tried to clasp the pages in a single foreleg, though I quickly abandoned the idea after a light breeze almost tore them out of my grip. Reluctantly I settled on my mouth.

“Cud yu fld unto vis?” I asked, holding the bags out to the griffoness, which she took without complaint.

As I began to I trudge over to the fountain, I could feel myself beginning to shake like a leaf.

“Hey!” Gilda suddenly called out, making me twist my neck to witness her giving me a half wave and a smile. “Good luck out there, and don’t be nervous. It’ll all be over soon enough and we can both go on with our normal lives.”

“Wow,” I said under my breath, “thanks for the vote of confidence.” Though I was not amused with her implication that I would fail, I did appreciate the sentiment behind her words.

Besides, she looked nice when she smiled.

The trip over to the fountain was simultaneously too short and too long. On one hand, a part of me was excited for what was to come, a chance to show the world my hard work and begin my plans for a better tomorrow. On the other hand, my breathing was starting to quicken already and I could feel sweat forming uncomfortably under my coat.

Eventually I reached my destination. Nervously, I stepped up onto the small ledge that was created by the fountain and turned to face the market.

From my position, the morning sun shone uncomfortably in my eyes. Luckily, it was still early enough that it had yet to rise above the buildings, shielding me from the bulk of its rays.

Though a few eyes turned towards me once I was raised above the heads of the griffons around me, most seemed to consciously ignore me, as if they could ward off the strange pony by pretending he didn’t exist.

Gilda herself had already blended into the crowd, leaning casually against one of the stalls. Though to the passing observer she seemed to be at ease, upon closer inspection her rapidly darting eyes gave her away.

Somehow I managed to position myself into a sitting position on the water’s edge, freeing up both of my forelegs to hold onto my pre-prepared notes.

Briefly I struggled to swallow the enormous lump that had formed in my throat as my hooves shook uncontrollably.

Clearing my throat as best I could to catch as much attention as possible, I launched into my speech.

“H—hear me griffons, as I stand before you today,” I began, my voice quivering so noticeably I couldn’t help but flinch. “Your punishment has gone on long enough. Today shall be the last day in which you will feel guilt for the sins of the father. You have all paid for their wrongs, and watched yourselves and your families suffer as a result.”

Whilst I spoke, my eyes remained glued to the pages in front of me, safe in the knowledge that as long as they remained there I wouldn’t need to acknowledge that anyone else was even around.

“Let me ask you this: what justice is it that you are forced to adopt the ponies way, to—.”

“Hey pony!” an angry female voice suddenly called out. Unconsciously, I glanced upwards, bringing my speech to a grinding halt as I surveyed the sheer number of griffons before me. “What’s that you’re saying about the ancestors!?”

“He’s bad mouthing the ancestors!” another voice called out further back in the pack, which was accompanied by a low rumble of assent.

“I—I would do no such thing as even dream of insulting your ancestors,” I said, attempting to regain control of a situation that was getting more dangerous by the second. “I merely me—.”

“Hey pony,” called out yet another griffon from the very front of the gradually shrinking semicircle around me, “how’s this for your dreams?”

Turning away from me the griffon bared his hindquarters and lifted up his tail in a rather lewd manner. The corresponding laughter at my blustered expression encompassed the entire crowd, the people at the back probably having no idea why they were even laughing. Despite this, I was beginning to feel helpless with the growing animosity against me. Even Gilda this time seemed stumped, only able to offer me a shrug from her new position near the front of the group.

My silence seemed to only bolster the griffon’s growing confidence as their mass grew ever closer, threatening to wash over me like a wave.

Despite the danger I refused to give up, I had come too far only to get stuck on the first step of my plans. In my desperation I began to cast my eyes around the market, looking for even the slightest hint of something that I could use.

I needed something to show the griffons that I was on their side, something that revealed the similarities between us. However, I did not really know enough information to specifically build off of. Growing more panicked, I searched for anything that was fundamentally the same, anything that I could show them that a regular pony could not.

Suddenly, my eyes latched onto something. Almost immediately, my brain produced a plan that could save me. However, a part of me was still reluctant to do so, to carry out such a disgusting act to save my own skin. After a few moments of hesitation, the throng before me growing louder and louder, my mind was made up.

Awkwardly, I stepped down from the ledge I was seated on and immediately dashed to the right, where the press of griffons was the least. Though some griffons moved to block my path, they quickly abandoned those plans when they realised that I wasn’t going to slow down. To them, a charging earth pony was a dangerous thing.

Soon enough, I found myself galloping through the maze of stalls, my eyes whipping back and forth in a hope to find what I was looking for.

Suddenly, as if by magic, the object of my search appeared in front of me. It stood abandoned like all of the other stalls around me, though it was not devoid of life. By that I point I was moving so fast that I was unable to slow myself down properly, my hooves grinding uselessly against the cobblestones as my legs skittered over the ground.

In slow motion, I saw the stall and its contents loom closer and closer, until I collided head on with some of its wares. For a second, I stood there dazed, my forelegs splayed out in front of me leaving my hindquarters thrust upwards into the air.

Shaking my head a few times to clear it, I let out a groan as I pulled myself back up on my hooves. I forced myself to ignore the orchestra of squeaks, chirping and other such various noises that my unintended collision had caused, which was no easy feat, considering its sheer volume. Casting a quick glance over the various battered metal cages, I snatched up the first one that contained any sign of life, a rabbit which seemed to be cowering in one corner.

By that point, my lungs were pumping like a pair of bellows, desperately trying to overcome my lack of physical fitness. To add to my misery, my flanks were burning in pure agony from the chafing of the tight bandages against my wounds. I thought that it might have started bleeding again, though I couldn’t be sure that it wasn’t just sweat.

Spinning around wildly, I immediately galloped back the way I had came. All the while the cage swung around violently, forcing me to bite down hard onto the wooden handle.

On my way I dodged and weaved around a few griffons that had already drifted away from the crowd. I noted, with a sense of relief, most still remained where they were when I left them, some looking at me in confusion, others with mirth.

This time the pack seemed to part before me like a wave, providing me with a direct path to the fountain.

Once again I stepped up onto the ledge, my balance even more precarious thanks to the cage that I was forced to rest one hoof on. I had been gone for less than a minute.

“Hey,” an outraged voice called out from near the front of the mob, “that’s my property, you thief. Give it here right now.”

The male griffon that was now advancing towards me with an angry scowl seemed to be in the prime of his life, though I could only tell by the fact that none of his feathers were grey. He seemed to also have no obvious signs of malnourishment, his coat healthy and ribs hidden, probably a direct result of sampling his own wares. Despite this, his build seemed to be nothing special, with no obvious muscle bulk or tone. Rather, he seemed to be a perfectly average griffon, which made him far stronger than me in my weakened state.

Without warning, another griffon streaked out from the crush and pounced onto the back of my would be assailant, causing them both to roll end over end. After two flips both figures came to a halt, the salesman now being pinned to the ground in a firm headlock. With a start of surprise I realised that my rescuer was Gilda. I hardly recognised her with her face being set into such a savage snarl.

“Keep going,” she urged, her voiced strained with effort as her captive squirmed weakly underneath her. “Finish what you started.”

Though most of the griffons looked on agape, none seemed to make any clear move to intervene.  

With a bit of effort, I managed to force open the bent door of the cage. Reaching in, the rabbit seemed to put up no resistance as I picked it up, though its chest was rising and falling so quickly that I half expected it to drop dead from shock. Holding the squirming rabbit gently in my forelegs, I stroked its head repeatedly until I felt its heartbeat slow and its struggling cease. Whilst I did this, the crowd seemed to quieten down slightly as they looked on in confusion.

Steeling myself for what was to come next, I cast my mind backwards. I saw Luna gazing at me impartially, unaffected by my pleas as she collaborated with her foul sister. I saw Cadence looking back at me with confusion, blind to her tyrannical manipulations. But worst of all, I saw Celestia standing over me, a serene smile plastered on her face, completely sure that the hurt she had forced upon me was entirely benevolent.

I had suffered at the hands of Equestria’s leaders, just as the griffons had. That made them my brothers and sisters, my comrades in injustice.

I felt rage, which I had suppressed with all my might since the party, flare to life within me. In its warmth, my aching flanks lost their importance and my nervousness lost all meaning. It filled up my entire being and made me strong.

Taking the rabbit up in one foreleg, holding it against me like it was a baby, I gently reached around it and grasped the hilt of my dagger. With a reasonable pull the blade exited silently, glinting slightly in the early morning sun.

Catching sight of my weapon a hushed silence swept over the assembled masses.

“What good are words, without actions to prove them?” I called out to the eerily quiet square.

Taking a breath to steady myself, I looked down at the rabbit that I held against me. It seemed to look up at me with confusion in its eyes, casting its gaze between my face and the knife. Perhaps, in that moment, I felt some sort of connection with the thing, but that was ridiculous, it was just a mindless beast and nothing more.

Not allowing myself to hesitate any further, I drew back my right hoof, and with all my might drove it towards the rabbit. The blade grasped in it easily pierced through its throat and travelled up through its brain. Even though it died almost instantly, it still had enough time to take a single gurgling breath before its chest ceased to move.

Blood dripped from the rabbit’s wound and travelled down its coat, intermingling with the dirt to become a rusty red colour. Some of it even managed to drip onto my own coat, its sickening wetness sending a shiver down my spine.

Though looking down at the mutilated carcass I felt bile rise in my throat, I forced it down. My mind screamed at me to push forward and capitalise on the crowd’s undoubtable shock.

Baring my teeth in my best imitation of a predatory smile, I looked upwards to face the masses.

“Look at yourselves,” I spat, some venom entering my voice. “You are so quick to defend your ancestors at the slightest provocation, yet your actions shame them far worse than I ever could.”

“In these times we all must make a choice,” I continued, my voice growing in volume as a red haze overtook my vision. “Do we remain the meek, or become the strong!?”

I knew then that I couldn’t delay the final step in my plan any longer. I had everyone in attendance enraptured, even the vendor whose rabbit I killed looked on in awe. All I needed to do was seal the deal.

Taking a final deep breath, I drove my mouth down towards the rabbit’s neck. Biting down hard on its still warm flesh, I was unable to separate a large enough piece, my grinding teeth being incapable of doing so. Fighting back my growing reluctance to continue I jerked my head violently side to side a number of times whilst simultaneously pulling the corpse away from me with all my might. With an especially violent pull, a chunk came loose with a sickening tearing sound, the remaining force almost causing the rabbit to fling out of my grip.

Not even giving myself a chance to think, I swallowed down my gory meal, the fur coating it sticking to my esophagus the entire way down.

Resisting the urge to gag, I turned to face the assembled griffons once more, my muzzle now stained with blood.

“I have made my choice this day!” I yelled out over the square, my volume being only slightly below screaming.

Catching sight of Gilda, looking at me now with widened eyes, an idea presented itself to me. Quickly, I wiped the blade of my weapon several times using a moderately clean patch of the deceased rabbit’s fur, resheathing it once I was satisfied by its cleanliness. Gently, I tossed the rabbit’s corpse to her, who quickly untangled her arms from the vendor—who appeared to be paralyzed by shock—and caught it at the last moment. Luckily, after staring at it for half a second she caught on to what I wanted her to do, and took her own bite of the rabbit, her beak and talons both becoming coated in blood.

“She has made her choice,” I cried to the mass, pointing my right hoof towards the griffoness, “Know that from this day forth, I, Righteous Flame, am your brother and that you all are mine.” I then began to sweep it slowly over the assembled masses, my gaze following its path. "There is a brighter future ahead, but unless we stand united with our fellows, regardless of species, and are prepared to fight under the banner of brotherhood, it will forever remain beyond our grasp."

“The ponies from on high.” I gestured vaguely towards the castle. “want to change who you are. They preach harmony, but only for those who conform to their narrow ideals. What does it matter if you starve? As long as you remain obedient, they do not care. Today I give you my word, my brothers and sisters in arms, I will fight for a future without discrimination. A future where you will not need to make a choice between crime or watching your family waste away. For us to eat meat is an irrefutable fact, a law of nature. It is time for us all to accept each other for what we are, no matter if we are pony or griffon, and make a stand, together.”

In the cavernous silence that followed, every griffon present stared at me utterly speechless; some beaks even hanging open in shock. Suddenly, and without any obvious origin, the entire market burst into wild cheering. Some raised their fists into the air, others whooped in excited, and a few even chanted my new name. The latter trend was quickly picked up on by everyone in attendance, its volume rising so high that I felt like I could cast down the gods themselves.

Whilst this was still going on, I motioned Gilda to come up and join me, though she responded with a shake of her head.

Determined to have her receive at least some of the praise, I jumped down from my perch. As soon as my hooves collided with the ground, the crowd rushed forward to meet me, obscuring Gilda from view. They seemed to wall me in as everywhere I turned I was greeted with a beaming griffon who wanted me to shake their claw or offer their appreciation.

“Hey!” a gruff voice suddenly called out, “Just what in Celestia’s name is going on here?”

“Guard!” a female voice screamed out as a reply.

Suddenly, griffons seemed to be bolting in every direction, whipping past me and dragging me in a multitude of directions at once. I could see a few griffons take to the skies, though it was a minute percentage of the original size of those gathered.

“Gilda,” I called out pitifully into the mass of bodies, looking around frantically for a glimpse of her familiar white and purple plumage. By that point I was beginning to panic, if I failed to rendezvous with Gilda I would have either been completely lost in the city or captured by the guard and dragged off to Celestia.

Suddenly I caught sight of a griffon hovering above the rest of the crowd, its lack of motion besides its wings making it stand out amongst the chaos.

Desperately I tried to squint against the glare of the sun in an attempt to determine if the figure was who I hoped it was.

It seemed that the figure was also looking for someone, its head moving back and forth, scanning the fleeing horde. It appeared that the stranger found who they were looking for, as their head seemed to settle facing roughly in my vicinity.

What came next startled me. Tucking its wings in close to its body, it suddenly swooped towards me, almost making me scream in terror due to its predatory appearance.

Then, I felt strong claws grasp my forelegs close to my torso. Suddenly, I felt myself being lifted, the ground simply falling away as I found myself above the press of bodies.

“Ancestors, you’re heavy,” my rescuer swore, their wings beating laboriously.

Her voice was unmistakable.

“G—Gilda,” I sputtered out in shock.

“The one and only.” She favoured me with an arrogant smirk. “Who else would save your pony ass?”

Before I got a chance to reply, my eyes drifted down towards the ground so far below. Looking at the distant buildings along with my uselessly dangling back legs caused a response to die in my throat.

It seemed that my situation tapped into some prehistoric section of my brain as I began to struggle and squirm. I did not know why I was doing what I was doing, I only knew that I needed to get away.

“Stop that,” Gilda scolded angrily. When she received no compliance she instead opted to angle her body downwards for half a second, causing us to drop suddenly. This caused a terrible sensation in my stomach that threatened to expel my unscheduled meal, though it did manage to snap me back to senses.

“Sorry,” I called over the rushing wind, as I let my body go limp. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“Just trust me,” Gilda responded, her voice and muscles straining over the effort to regain our lost altitude. “I know what I am doing.”

I did trust her and so I allowed for us to lapse into silence to save her the effort of talking, flying and carrying me all at once.

“Okay,” she abruptly spoke, startling me out of the relaxation exercises I was performing in an attempt to prevent myself from panicking again. “Now don’t freak out but I’m going to angle us into a gilde.”

Without even giving me a moment to react, her wings stopped beating and we began to descend slowly in a lazy circle.

“By the way, cool name,” she added.

“Thanks,” I replied, my current state of near panic making me forget some of my manners. “For lack of a better term, I pulled it out of my ass.” I paused, before giving her my best approximation of a sly wink I could manage at the time. “With your help of course.”

She laughed. “Well Righteous Flame, lets head back. We’ve got work to do.”

As the ground grew closer, my laughter intermingled with her own.